December is the Anaemic Month

It’s pouring right now. Buckets and buckets of lovely rain which I hope is filling Warragamba dam all the way up. (Sadly, it’s also raining in Brisbane which means no cricket. Sob.) I’m taking a tiny break from writing the second volume of Magic or Madness (tentative title: Magic! Magic! Magic! Oi! Oi! Oi!—my compatriots will understand why that’s funny). The deadline of which just got moved forward. Gulp. That’s one of the reasons I’ve not been musing much of late. (A friend of mine is not sure about my use of the term "musing"—she thinks of it as a "loathesome, villain-chin-stroking or fantasy-heroine-in-a-reverie kind of word" which is kind of why I chose the word in the first place—it makes me giggle.)

I also haven’t been musing on account of all the work I have to do on Daughters of Earth, the collection of twentieth-century feminist sf I’m editing. As well as sundry other reasons that also have to do with the need to do paid writing rather than fun writing. Tingle Alley discusses the dilemma eloquently here.

Also I haven’t been feeling very "villian-chin-stroking" or "fantasy-heroine-in-a-reverie" of late, which puts a real damper on my ability to muse. Plus it’s December and I’m Australian and am thus hardwired to be lazy during this the first month of summer.

So basically what I’m saying is, there’ll be more here, but, you know, later.

Enjoy your holidays.

Sydney, 10 December 2004